Ruminations
by Michaelssw0rd
Summary: "I am not a pie Arthur." Merlin laughed out loud... "Hmm… I am not so sure," he pulled up the ridiculous man, who had captivated his heart, so he could press their mouths together, "you taste just as delightful."


Isolated from the rest of his knights, chased by half a dozen rogue bandits who would love nothing more than to kill him, or use him for ransom, another half a dozen waiting for him when he crossed the bridge he was currently running on… it wasn't really a choice.

Arthur jumped.

The river greeted him with a harsh and cold slap of wave, taking him along with the stream. Arthur ducked into the water, giving himself a cover from when the bandits made the last ditch effort by throwing arrows. Soon, he was too far away from their reach, invisible under the strong tide.

Inexplicably, it reminded him of Merlin: head strong, unyielding, and powerful. One could not hope to go against the sheer intensity of a flowing river, and win. The only way was to bend, to learn to navigate, to use its strength and let it lend you the power. Once you figured out how to do exactly that, how to fight with, rather than fight against this force of nature… you were invincible.

Later on, Arthur mused, that it wasn't just the river that reminded him of Merlin. No, it was the whole element.

Water.

Necessary, like a drop of elixir for a parched throat; soothing, like a dip into the cool lake after a day of riding in the sun; cleansing, like a warm water bath, taking away the aches of the day from the body along with the dirt.

Gaius once told him that a human body was made of seventy percent water. If Merlin was water, Arthur could very well believe that.

* * *

Arthur was used to it really; to the unavoidable deference and obsequiousness, to the relentless flattery and servility, to the fact that nobody ever told him exactly what they were thinking. But being used to it didn't make it any less tedious.

The whole fakeness of it left a foul taste in his mouth whenever some noble family came visiting, or worse, whenever he had to go visit some other Kingdom. Maybe once upon a time he had enjoyed how important and mighty it made him feel; now, it just felt stale. Dull.

He needed some salt in his bland and tasteless life.

He needed Merlin.

Whenever someone called him "Sire," Arthur longed to hear the complete lack of respect that Merlin always managed to infuse in it. Whenever someone sang praises of him, he missed being called a Prat. Whenever he made decisions, he wished someone would be muttering insults mixed with advices over his shoulders, questioning his every move until he figured out the best way to resolve the situation.

Arthur was tired of the cloyingly saccharine gestures of false esteem thrown his way. His manservant brought in the much needed spice in his days, flavoring them up, making them much more enjoyable.

He doubted he could bear the insubordination from anyone else though… just Merlin.

* * *

Sweet was the taste of Merlin's lips against his, like biting into the ripest fruit of the season. Nothing was quite as pleasing as the sounds he made when Arthur kissed him. The flavor of his laughter, the way it settled into his belly, warming him up from inside, was more satisfying than any honeyed wine could be.

Arthur would give up any dessert, because Merlin was all the sugar he wanted.

* * *

"I am not a pie Arthur." Merlin laughed out loud, lying under the cover with his head on Arthur's chest. After glow usually left Arthur strangely defenseless, and it was no wonder he admitted to Merlin being everything essential in his life: water, salt and sugar. He had never boasted he was good with words though.

"Hmm… I am not so sure," he pulled up the ridiculous man, who had captivated his heart, so he could press their mouths together, "you taste just as delightful," he exhaled, biting one of the lips gently, "maybe even better."

All Merlin could do in response was chuckle, until it transformed into sighs and moans.

.

* * *

 _A/N: Wrote this for the Tavern_Tales July prompt: Water, sugar, salt. (Look at that, for once I am posting something on time.)_

 _I am trying to become a consistent writer who writes something most days of the week. Let's see how long I can keep it up. Reviews help *Winks suggestively*, seriously, feedback helps A LOT. So please spare a moment and say a couple of words about it._


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